Final Fantasy VIII - Dark Contact, v.1.2
by SouthernComfort
Summary: The fall of the just, the battle of the mighty, the redemption of the few... and a little sci-fi, too.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This story will be updated periodically at Final Fantasy Online's fanfiction forums. GO THERE FOR NEW CHAPTERS, I probably won't update it here until it's finished. And despite the first chapter, trust me, It's FFVIII. Chapter 2 explains it all.  
  
Final Fantasy VIII - Dark Contact  
  
By J. Miller (aka SouthernComfort)  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
Heat is a problem in space. Most people think that it would be no problem at all, due to the fact that matter in deep space is around 3 degrees absolute, or -270 degrees Centigrade, but then very few people ever acquire the background necessary to fully understand the problem.  
  
It may be that space is cold, but the problem with heat is the fact that little to no matter exists to transfer heat away from a ship. Heat builds up, quickly overwhelming the life-support systems on spacecraft, rendering the interior of the ship too hot to support life. The first spacecraft engineers didn't realize this, and the first two men in space baked alive as the temperatures quickly reached around 500 degrees Centigrade within the cockpit.  
  
The design flaw was quickly corrected. To cool the interior of the ship, air returning to the life support systems was captured and pressurized, and due to arcane laws of the behavior of gasses, heated greatly as they were compressed. Then, after the atmosphere was compressed in tanks, heat was transferred through a complex system of radiators, which bled heat off into blocks of carbon, which were then ejected into space. After the temperature of the tanks fell to 40 degrees Centigrade, it was depressurized, thereby reducing the temperature of the air to near freezing and released back into circulation.  
  
Such thoughts passed through the mind of Lieutenant Commander Jacob Elway, chief engineer of the TCWS Soul Hunter, as he sat in the conference room just behind the bridge, shivering in the icy winds flowing from the ventilators. The Soul Hunter, flagship of the Terran Confederation, was a massive heavy assault cruiser, designed to bring swift death and destruction to any enemy of Terra, Sol III, otherwise known to the inhabitants of the planet as Earth.  
  
The strike force, composed of the ships Soul Hunter, Heart Eater, Skull Crusher, and other smaller attack frigates, had been launched over eight years ago. Their final destination was the system of Tau Ceti, to pave the way for the colony ship Goddess and to insure that the colonization project went quickly and smoothly. The Terran Confederation desperately needed the colony to ease the overcrowding on Earth, with its population of over 40 billion.  
  
However, roughly four light-years back, the strike force had begun to receive radio communications from Tau Ceti III, the only inhabitable planet in the system. Admiral Tsien, the strike force commander, immediately reported the radio intercepts to the Confederate High Council by a probe with hyperlink capability. An hour ago, the strike force received the reply.  
  
Admiral Tsien had called a meeting of the senior officers aboard the three heavy cruisers after receiving the message. It was sitting on the podium in front of him, as the admiral eyed Elway sternly for his uncontrollable shivering. Elway immediately controlled his reaction to the cold, for displeasing the admiral had gotten the previous senior engineer thrown into the cryosleep cells, for court martial after the strike team returned to Earth.  
  
"If we are all prepared, gentlemen," Admiral Tsien began, "then I will start by reading the message from the Council. And Comdr. Elway? I had a report come in from Delta watch this morning about the atmospheric scrubbers leaking. I would like you to personally effect repairs."  
  
A few of the other senior officers gave Elway pitying looks. Environmental scrubbers were full of a mix of sulfur loving bacteria and ammonium-loving algae. Though they cleansed the air of various noxious chemicals, the leak would make the scrubber room smell vile for a long time. It was cruel punishment for the simple fact of being cold, but Admiral Tsien was a well- known tightass about command presence.  
  
"Gentlemen, I hereby repeat to you the actual contents of the message drone," Admiral Tsien spoke. "The Terran Confederation, due to the current crisis with the population pressures, has made to following decision. At no cost is the colonization of the third planet of Tau Ceti to fail. The commander of Alpha Strike Force, Admiral Tsien, is authorized to use any means necessary to insure the success of the colonization effort. He is also authorized and instructed to use extreme prejudice against any inhabitants of Tau Ceti III. Signed and sealed this day, the Third of October, in the year of 2348, the Grand Council of the Terran Confederation."  
  
A few of the more senior officers grinned. Born and bred for combat, they enjoyed the thought of slaughtering millions. However, Elway had never had the others' bloodthirst, and the thought of murdering an entire species disgusted him. Elway debated with himself, wondering if it was wiser to speak out, risking the admiral's displeasure, or to be silent. Finally, Elway raised his hand for attention.  
  
"Admiral? Xenocide? Is that really necessary?"  
  
The Admiral fixed his angry glare on Elway once more. "Are you questioning the orders of the Council, Commander? I should hope not, for you are sworn to uphold their demands."  
  
"No, admiral, I'm not questioning the order. It just seems a slight bit extreme."  
  
"Good, then. And, commander, I do think that the best solution to the leak would be to manually check all of the scrubbers. After all, it could be contaminated. And I hope that you would never actually question the Council's orders. That would displease me very much. Dismissed."  
  
As the crew filed out of the conference room, Commander Jackson caught Elway's arm. Jackson, the senior Weapons officer, had often chided Elway about his attitude, stating that the Confederate Space Division had no room for softhearted weaklings. By Jackson's face, Elway was about to receive more than a little criticism.  
  
"What the hell was that about, Elway? What the hell do you think you were doing? You've just royally pissed the Admiral off, and I'm in the bridge during Alpha shift!"  
  
"Sir, doesn't this seem just a little extreme to you? I mean-"  
  
"Hell, Elway, I've been wanting to take a potshot at something lately," Jackson interrupted rudely. "What the hell is a soft-hearted little wimp like you doing in the Starfleet, anyway? It's out job to kill people! Now get down to your cabin for your sleep shift, and then fix the damn scrubbers when you wake up. The Admiral doesn't want to see your face until they are fixed."  
  
Elway stared at the back of the Weapons officer as he stormed away. Xenocide? This might be first communication with an extraterrestrial intelligence! Xenocide! What was the Council thinking? What kind of monsters would destroy the entire population of a world just to put a few thousand people on a planet?  
  
He trotted off to find the supply sergeant. Another blanket couldn't hurt on his bed, since he could do nothing about the chill in the air.  
  
Heat is a real problem in space. And the flames of war burn the hottest of all. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two  
  
Power is necessary to perform any action in space. From the computers that controlled navigation, to the functions of the life support system, everything is dependent on the power flowing from the generators. All systems draw on the available power to support a person in space.  
  
Usually, power is supplied from fusion reactors. Converters change the raw heat from the reaction into electrical power, thereby activating the systems that control the operations of the spacecraft. The remaining heated plasma from the reaction is pumped outwards into control valves that supply the fuel for the massive thrusters that move a ship through space.  
  
A new design had been in the works for years. Instead of fusion reactors, perhaps a limited matter-antimatter reaction could be used to power a spacecraft. Eager engineers had created blueprints for a ship to take advantage of the huge supply of power an M/A reactor would supply, and the engineers wanted government funding to complete the design.  
  
Of course, the Congress of Esthar was a little leery of supplying money for a ship design that could be easily converted to a warship. But President Loire wanted the spacecraft to be constructed, which would allow Esthar to take advantage of the mineral and metal wealth of the asteroid belts in the system. Thus, Laguna himself was in the Congress building, prepared to take any actions necessary to ensure that appropriate funding was granted to the eager engineers.  
  
"Members of Congress, I have heard your reasons for not granting the funding to these fine ladies and gentlemen. But the worth of these ships are more than enough to offset any risks involved with their use. The treasury has more than enough money. And the benefits would be astounding!" Laguna said, in a wearied voice. The debate had lasted all morning, as the same arguments had been thrown at each other countless times, neiter side willing to surrender to the other.  
  
One of the congressmen stood up. "Mr. President, the benefits of this design are obvious. But the fact remains, these designs could be easily adapted for military use. We already maintain one of the most powerful militaries in the world, besides supporting the Gardens financially. And a standing army is dangerous. Allowing these ships to be created, ships that could have military uses, directly opposes the resolution that my staff and I are putting forth in Congress later this week. The world is at peace. It is time to eradicate the last dangerous vestiges of war. I will vote no to any resolution that could in any way possibly allow the military to continue to exist!"  
  
A loud cheer erupted from the floor. Anti-military lobbyists had worked their best to convert the Congress to their own pacifist views. And, apparently, it had worked, judging by the number of congressmen supporting Congressman Eason's proclamation.  
  
But Laguna still had one option, a leftover legal relic from the reign of Sorceress Adel. It had never been removed from the Articles of Government, as it was never considered that any standing president would ever use it. However, circumstances now required the use of the legal machination.  
  
"Congressman Eason, and indeed, all Congressmen. Though I do truly regret this, I am left with no choice. By Article 24, section 3, paragraph 2 of the Articles of Government, I pass the resolution of funding by executive fiat. Also, I table your resolution of dissolvement of the Esthar Army until this same date one year hence, also by executive fiat. I regret using this option, but unfortunately I feel that not only would these spacecraft ultimately benefit the people of Esthar, and ultimately the people of this world, but also that the dissolution of the army would place the people of Esthar in danger should war arise from the grave that the SeeD's have laid it in. Good day, gentlemen."  
  
Amid the outrage that leapt forth on the floor of the House of Congress, President Laguna Loire stormed out of the room. How dare they! Balamb Garden was almost entirely funded by Esthar. If the Esthar Army was disbanded, and it's funding withdrawn, the funding for SeeD would also be withdrawn. And then, the single most powerful and effective military organization would be left without support, and Laguna's son and daughter- in-law would be left without a job. And there was no way that Laguna would ever do that to them, especially since the news he had received a couple of days ago. Laguna was about to be a grandfather.  
  
Ellone met him in the hall. Even though he still remembered her in her favorite blue and white dress, she had traded that in for a conservatively cut business suit. After all, as a newly elected representative for the far eastern district of North Esthar City, she needed to look the part. However, her pale green shawl still decorated her arms, showing that there were some things that would never change.  
  
"Uncle Laguna? I think you should know, Garibaldi Eason is calling for your immediate impeachment."  
  
Laguna just smiled. "Do you think that it will pass, Elle?"  
  
Ellone's smile matched his. "What? Impeach the hero of the First Sorceress War? Congress might be angry, but none of them would dare to throw you out of office. After all, you are a hero."  
  
Laguna held his arm out to his adopted daughter. Ellone took it, and they walked out of the building and across the street to Ellone's favorite coffee shop.  
  
He hated to use his power like that, but in that case it had been unavoidable. He could never allow himself to relax the unceasing vigilance against the enemies that would threaten the peace of his country, both without and within. And though Congress was angry, they would get over it in due time.  
  
After all, without power, nothing at all could happen. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three  
  
A tiny valve opened. Through it, antihydrogen flowed, a thin stream directed into the exact center of a vast chamber. Powerful magnetic fields focused the flow, containing it until it met a thin stream of hydrogen in the middle of the chamber. Suddenly, the center of the reactor was filled with violence, as matter and antimatter annihilated each other, releasing x- ray and gamma radiation.  
  
The magnetic fields trapped the controlled explosion in the center of the chamber. However, the radiation flowed through the fields, causing a wild surge through them before dissipating harmlessly into the water tanks surrounding the reactor.  
  
The surge traveled through the magnetic fields, and flowed into the electromagnetic generators. Just before the surge reached the generating coils, it was bled off as a massive burst of electricity into fortified cables running from the generator, straight through the heart of the ship, into another magnetic field generator.  
  
This secondary generator, however, didn't contain anything. Instead, the powerful magnetic field produced set a large crystal mounted in a complicated framework to vibrating wildly, producing a perfect tone, if ear- shattering, a strong high A-sharp.  
  
Ahead of the Soul Hunter, space twisted, bending the very fabric of reality as the crystal affected the space-time lattices. Suddenly, the Soul Hunter was pulled through the twisting, hyperlinking successfully into the alternate dimensions known as hyperspace.  
  
Elway turned away from the view-port of the hyperlink drive. Although it was a beautiful sight, watching the hyperlink crystal shift out of phase with the rest of the ship, Elway was relieved that many layers of insulation separated him and the madness-causing music of the crystal.  
  
Turning to the microphone mounted on the engineering console, Elway spoke to admiral "Admiral," he spoke in the formal reply to the admiral's question, "Your flagship has hyperlinked successfully."  
  
"Thank you, Commander," Admiral Tsien answered, formally. Then, less formally, "Are the scrubbers repaired, Commander?"  
  
"Yes, Admiral." Elway shuddered as a memory of the stench filled his nostrils again. Even though Elway had used his weekly shower rations to rid himself of the smell, it still clung to him. The faint miasma caused the rest of the Engineering crew to keep back, giving Elway plenty of room.  
  
"Very well, then, Commander. I believe your shift has ended. You are dismissed."  
  
Elway turned away from his station in Engineering, and his second slid into his seat, wrinkling her nose at the smell. She would watch the drive during Gamma shift. Elway walked out of Engineering, heading to Sickbay to see of he could wheedle another week of shower allotments early.  
  
After unsuccessfully begging the Chief Surgeon for the precious shower allotments, Elway wandered his way back to his room. Lost in thought about how to rid himself of the remainder of the stink, he walked right into Megan Kisman, the second Pilot.  
  
She stumbled back, glaring at Elway. "Dammit, Jacob, do you ever watch where you are going?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Meg, I was thinking."  
  
She grinned up at the suddenly bemused Chief Engineer. "It's okay, Jacob. I was looking for you. and what is that smell?" the diminutive woman finished, wrinkling her nose.  
  
Elway sheepishly replied, "I kinda made the Admiral mad, yesterday."  
  
"And he made you clean the enviro scrubbers, didn't he?" Megan replied. "I have some scented body wash that might kill that smell."  
  
"I. err. I used all of my shower allotments this week this morning."  
  
Megan just gave him a wicked grin. "Then you could share one or two with me."  
  
A smile crossed Elway's face at that comment, but it soon faded. Piloting a ship through the neural interface unit put the pilots in almost direct mental contact with hyperspace. For some reason, it was vastly more addictive than the worst drugs ever consumed by humanity. Pilots had to fight the addiction constantly, or else risk going mad. And they were taught in school that the best way was through sex.  
  
And sex with Megan was good. Better than good, as a matter of fact. In fact, although Jacob didn't yet realize it, he had fallen madly in love with Megan, and the slightest thought of losing her hurt badly. And no matter what, Pilots always lost to the seductive call of hyperspace.  
  
She caught the scowl on his face, and purposely misunderstood it. "What, Jacob, tired of me? Maybe you would like to try the senior Pilot. She's always looking for someone good."  
  
Jacob shuddered. It was widely know the perverted pleasure the Senior Pilot enjoyed. And the pain she craved. Some of her methods of pleasure. how could anyone enjoy that?  
  
"So." Megan said, "Your quarters or mine?"  
  
Elway just looked at Megan. God, that glorious black hair, and those lustrous green eyes, her lithe, athletic figure. He was a moron if he ever passed that up.  
  
"Yours," he said, finally. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four  
  
Rinoa Heartilly stepped out of the shower, and wrapped a voluminous robe about her. Still rubbing at her bleary eyes, she looked at the clock. Nine- thirty in the morning. She groaned, still wishing she was in bed. Only the insane woke up before noon.  
  
She walked across the room to the closet, and began to dress quickly. Three and a half years of marriage to Squall had cured her from sleeping past ten, but she still had trouble remembering plans for the day before lunch. The only things that kept her going in the morning were many cups of strong coffee and frequent quick peeks at her day planner.  
  
As she pulled her shirt over her head, she was reminded of the reason she was awake so early. She had abandoned her favorite blue outfit months ago, after she couldn't get it on around her swelling stomach. Seven months, only two to go, and today was her checkup with Doc Kadowaki.  
  
Just then Squall walked in through the door. "Rinny? Are you awake?"  
  
"Yes, Squall, I'm awake." She poured two cups of coffee, a normal-sized one for Squall and a massive insulated mug for herself. Handing Squall his cup, she gave him a quick kiss. "I'll be going for my checkup, just as soon as I finish my coffee."  
  
"You know, Rinny, the doc did say that caffeine isn't good for you. right. now." His comment withered under her baleful stare.  
  
"I get my coffee, Squall Leonheart, and not you, nor the doc, nor Hyne herself will stop me."  
  
She turned to the mirror, pretending to be in a minor snit. Then Squall slipped behind her and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a warm hug and a little kiss on the neck. Rinoa leaned back against his chest, resting against him as his hands slipped from around her chest to lay gently against her swollen belly.  
  
They stood there for a few minutes, enjoying a quiet moment, but the intercom interrupted them. "Squall? It's Zell. Got a moment?"  
  
Sighing, Squall released Rinoa and strode over the intercom. "Go ahead, Zell."  
  
"The budget committee from Galbadia is here. It seems that they want to cut our funding, again."  
  
"I'll be right there, Zell." Squall sighed, his face settling back into its usual serious look. He reached over and gave a Rinoa another kiss before walking out the door. "See you later, love."  
  
Rinoa gave a small sigh. It always seemed like government officials wanted to pare the budget a little closer to the bone, to divert a little of the money that supported the Gardens to their own little pet projects. Esthar was the only country that had never even proposed to reduce their funding of Garden, and that was due mostly to the legal machinations of President Laguna.  
  
She slipped on her shoes, and stepped out the door. Her appointment was in a few minutes, and Doc Kadowaki was unhappy with late appointments.  
  
* * *  
  
Laguna groaned as Kiros slipped the last of the lobbyists from the Presidential Office. Another group from the Estharian Society for the Promotion of Pacifism, the source of Senator Eason's campaign funding. And although Laguna had passed the funding bill for the new spacecraft, Eason still managed to bog it down in committee after committee. And, worse, his use of the Executive Fiat amendment had caused a massive uproar in Congress.  
  
Sometimes, Laguna really wanted to hurt somebody. Someone like Senator Eason.  
  
Kiros walked back into the office. "Laguna? You have an appointment for the Anti-War League. And a group of senators is here, to talk about the Eason Initiative. Again. Where do you want me to fit them in?"  
  
"Umm. I think my appointment book is full, Kiros. As a matter of fact, I think I double-booked my next appointment, the one with the AWL. I even think I double-booked all appointments with every pacifist group for the next month."  
  
Ward walked in. "...?"  
  
"Yes, Ward, I am sick and tired of them."  
  
Kiros spoke up. "Does that mean you've double-booked your appointment with Mayor Dobe of FH?"  
  
"Umm. no, not that one. Best not make Will mad, FH is an independant country, after all."  
  
"A small one, though. And it's not as if they will declare war."  
  
Laguna scowled. "Yeah, but they sit right next to the Transoceanic Railway, and all our exports go out that way. At least until the Trabian Railway is finished, but that will take another few years."  
  
Kiros just laughed. Laguna was still flustered with politics, even after almost twenty-two years in office. He had offered the presidency to Kiros once, six months after he defeated Adel, but Kiros had refused. Kiros was happy just handling minor stuff, like appointments, campaign finance overwatch, Presidential security, and babysitting his infant grandson.  
  
Ward waved a sheet of paper towards Laguna. "....."  
  
Laguna's head came up from his hands. The observatory platform, put into orbit two years ago, had just gotten a strange reading on one of their new sensors. Laguna took the paper, and began to read.  
  
After a few minutes, he looked up. "Kiros, what is a tachyon?"  
  
Kiros, who had a minor interest in science, replied, "It's a very unusual subatomic particle, and it's said that it travels much faster than the speed of light. Something to do with negative mass, or something like that."  
  
A puzzled frown was still on Laguna's face. "I'm not sure what you just said, but. faster than light? I'm pretty sure that Odine said light speed was as fast as anything could go. Jericho's First Principle of Energy Transference, was what he said."  
  
"Actually, it the Jericho's Second Principle. It's complicated, but in essence it says that at light speed, the mass of an object approaches infinity, and therefore requires infinite energy to maintain velocity."  
  
"Umm. You lost me."  
  
Kiros sighed. Laguna still thought science was mixing vinegar and baking soda, or watching a pendulum swing, or any other inane high-school science project.  
  
"..." Ward told Laguna.  
  
"Oh. Thanks, Ward." Laguna replied.  
  
"What about tachyons?" Kiros asked.  
  
"Well, the Polar Observation Platform caught a massive burst of it, like something suddenly went faster-than-light. or at least, that's what they said."  
  
"Strange." Kiros said.  
  
"They also said it seems like whatever it was, it was headed this way, but the burst ended as suddenly as it started."  
  
"Probably a disintegrating black hole. I heard they emit tachyons when they do that."  
  
"Yeah, ok, whatever you just said," Laguna answered. "Hey, you guys want some coffee? They brew a good pot down in the guardpost by the Palace entrance. We could get a cup before my next appointment."  
  
"Sure."  
  
".."  
  
"Let's go, then."  
  
* * *  
  
Siefer lay on the bed, covered with a sheet, smoking a cigarette. Across the room, the girl stood, putting her short dress back on, pulling the sheer material over her nude body. She was a call girl, not too expensive, but better quality than the whores on the street.  
  
He had been living like this for the past three years. Even though Seifer had led the Galbadian Army into starting the Second Sorceress War, and then abandoned his post in the end, he was still technically part of the army. General Caraway, in order to prevent a media circus surrounding a court- martial of Seifer, had instead eliminated the charges against the arrogant ex-SeeD. Then, just to make sure Seifer didn't start trouble again, Caraway had placed Seifer on his staff to keep his eye on him.  
  
Seifer's main job was mostly file work. Occasionally, though, Caraway involved Seifer in tactical planning. Seifer may have been a traitor, but Caraway recognized a brilliant tactician and warrior when he saw one, and Seifer was good at his job.  
  
Of course, Seifer often threatened to quit. But every time he did, Caraway offered to withdraw the protection of the Galbadian Army, and let Garden have their way with him. Siefer wasn't a complete fool, so he would quickly withdraw his resignation, and life went on, as usual.  
  
The pay wasn't great, but it kept Siefer fed, gave him a place to sleep, and kept Garden from demanding his head on a silver platter. Plus, it was enough for Seifer to enjoy his other pleasures.  
  
The girl was finished dressing. Slipping her shoes on, she turned to face Seifer, with an expectant look on her face. Seifer just smiled, a small one- sided smirk, and reached for his coat. He pulled a five hundred gil note from its pockets, and flung it at the foot of the bed.  
  
The girl walked over and picked up the bill. Then, she sat down beside Seifer, and ran her hands over the young warrior's smooth chest. "It was fun, Seifer. There is always something about traitors, isn't there? Call me again, next time." She stood, and turned to leave.  
  
Seifer kept his face straight until the girl had walked out the door. Then, in a fit of rage, he picked up the wine glass from his bedside table and flung it hard against the opposite wall.  
  
Goddamn it! Goddamn it all to hell! All they ever wanted was the traitor. No one gave a shit about Seifer, but every single one of the girls just loved to sleep with a traitor. He was so fucking sick of hearing that word!  
  
Throwing the sheet to the side, Seifer stood, and stalked to the bathroom. Cool night air from the open window swept over his nakedness, raising goose bumps under the fine golden hairs on his arms. Seifer, still in a rage, ignored the chill. He flung open the shower door, and twisted the handle to cold.  
  
Call her again, his ass! He stood under the icy stream of water, shivering, as the rage flowed out of him and down the drain. Then, Seifer turned the handle to hot, and reached for the soap, scrubbing away the sheen of perspiration.  
  
After he was finished, he stepped out of the bathroom, still dripping. He reached for the remote to the stereo, and turned it on. The stereo came on, and randomly chose a station. Country music filled the room. Seifer just barely kept himself from flinging the remote at the stereo system.  
  
He walked over to the bed, and picked up his pack of cigarettes. Pulling one out by its filter, Seifer lit it, and then pointed the remote at the stereo again. This time, the pounding bass and harsh guitar of death-metal filled the room, suiting Siefer's current mood perfectly. He flung himself, still naked and wet, into a chair, and began to brood.  
  
Hyne, how he hated this town. He hated his job, his house, and his life. Nothing had been right since after the war. No matter how he had tried, he was still Seifer Almasy, Ultimecia's Knight and traitor, despised by the world.  
  
Maybe he ought to take up Raijin and Fujin's offer. He was sick of being here, and maybe a weekend of fishing would do him good. He reached over for the phone, and dialed.  
  
"Hello, Fujin? How would you guys like to go fishing this weekend?" 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five  
  
Space twisted. A small asteroid, caught in the bending folds of space-time, began to streak inwards towards the center of the twisting, it's internal structure warping, folding in on itself, until it shattered. The remaining shards vibrated wildly, shattering even further, until they were caught in the growing hole centered in the anomaly. Then, they vanished, leaving nothing behind but a sudden flare of gamma radiation.  
  
The prow of a ship appeared. It flowed through the hole, it's sleek lines catching the light of the nearby star, it's graceful beauty marred only by the blackened outlines of weapons ports and thrust units. Then, other ships appeared, flowing through similar holes, leaving behind glittering traces of the etheric substances of hyperspace, before the twisting ended as suddenly as it had begun.  
  
As the last heavy cruiser hyperlinked out of hyperspace, a medium warship broke away from the fleet, followed by smaller destroyers. It curved inwards towards the still-distant sun, abandoning the course followed by its larger cousins as it raced towards its immediate mission.  
  
Aboard the bridge of the warship, the TCWS Executioner, Commander Ian Jackson sat in the central command chair. He had been the senior weapons and tactical officer aboard the Soul Hunter until yesterday. Then, the admiral had given him a new assignment, one more suited for his bloodthirsty temperament.  
  
The lesser fleet of warships was inbound to the sun of the star system. While the larger fleet would travel out to the far outskirts of the system, hoping to be able to decelerate enough to loop around in the Oort cloud, the smaller fleet would make a high-gravity curve around the sun to intercept the orbit of the fourth planet.  
  
It would take the greatest part of the fleet two years to make a successful deceleration and return to the fourth planet. But the smaller fleet, under the command of Jackson, would take the quicker route, its crew safely protected by cryosleep, and begin its mission in under two weeks. By the time the ships under the command of Admiral Tsien arrived, Jackson's mission would already be complete: the pacification of Tau Ceti IV and the eradication of all its intelligent life-forms.  
  
Suppressing a small shudder of glee, Jackson turned to his second-in- command. "Have the nav computers been programmed, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Yes sir," she replied.  
  
"Good. Prepare the rest of the crew for the Ice, then," Jackson ordered. He watched her bottom as she walked off, thinking about how it looked in those tight uniform pants. Missions like this always gave him erotic thoughts, blood and sex being his main two hobbies. God, the shore leave after his crew was finished would be good. And he had purposely included mostly female officers in this attack force, for the variety.  
  
Maybe, after the main fleet arrived in two years, Jackson would be promoted to Captain. It was almost certain. After all, Admiral Tsien had promoted him from Sergeant for a mission like this, six years ago, after he took command of a warship during the pacification of one of the belt colonies for revolting against the Terran Confederation.  
  
After his commanding officer had told the admiral in some detail where to stick the mission, Jackson had enjoyed the execution of the lieutenant, almost as much as what he had witnessed afterwards. He had enjoyed the sight of the bodies of the rebels, as the had floated past his ship after he holed their air dome. He had even taken a few shots at some of them, just to watch them explode in the vacuum.  
  
And to think, he had started off as a mere common criminal. Four years of rape and murder, of deeds best left unmentioned, the best years of his life, and then the Confederate garrison on Mars had captured him, and proceeded with neural reconditioning. Even though the treatment was supposed to turn him into the perfect soldier, he still remembered the screams of the women he had raped, the pleas for mercy from rich men as he slit their throats. It still thrilled him, even today. Only now, he had free license to kill, and then he could have his way with the crew women. And none of them would stop him, hoping that he would give them a promotion. It almost disappointed him. He loved to break them to his will.  
  
Two weeks of deceleration, maybe a month of murder, and then two years of fun. Jackson giggled with glee in the empty bridge, a harsh, insane laughter. He stepped out of the command chair, and made his way back into the cryohold. God, he loved his job.  
  
* * *  
  
Elway shifted in his bunk. Even though it was his sleep shift, he was having trouble sleeping. The cold air blowing through the overhead vents only served to make him shiver as he contemplated his cold thoughts.  
  
He had been sleeping in Megan's arms this morning, happy with the woman he loved. Then, the admiral had paged her, telling her that she needed to replace the currant Pilot. Meg had jumped out of bed at those words, Elway completely forgotten in her haste to sit in the Pilot's couch.  
  
Never mind the fact that the previous Pilot had died that morning, her mind permanently merging with the glory of hyperspace.  
  
He hated his bunk. Even though Elway had a private room due to his rank, unlike most of the crewmen, he hated it. It was always cold and cramped, empty of anything even remotely human. Starfleet personnel were discouraged from bringing more than their uniforms on board. Supposedly, it saved on mass, and encouraged the crew to be colder and more efficient, more like the perfect Starfleet officer.  
  
More like that asshole Jackson.  
  
But Jackson was gone, in command of the strike force. Elway wouldn't have to even think about him for the next two years.  
  
A cold blast flowed from the vent. Elway shivered harder under the thin general issue blankets. He wished fervently to be in Megan's quarters. Pilots were allowed personal items, like portable heaters, photographs, warm quilts, anything to keep them alive for as long as possible, to remind them that they were human, not gods. Pilots were rare, and the Terran Confederation treated them as valued assets, unlike most Starfleet personnel.  
  
But it would be a week until he saw Megan again. A Pilot's duty shift lasted eight days, until they were exhausted beyond use. Only then could a Pilot be removed from the Couch, for to remove them while they were still conscious brought violent reactions, wich sometimes resluted in the painful injury of a crewman, or worse, the Pilot herself.  
  
The freezing gusts blew harder from the ventilation system. Elway shuddered as the icy air flowed easily through the thin blankets, chilling him to the marrow. He had tried to sneak his favorite thick, warm quilt through Starfleet security back at Phobos base on Mars, but they had confiscated it before he boarded the shuttle. Admiral Tsien had given him a lecture after he boarded the Soul Hunter, about the objectives of the perfect officer and setting an example for junior crewmen, and then had posted him to his first shipboard assignment, checking the water pumps in the algal vats that supplied the ship with breathable air. It had taken Elway months to quit remembering the slimy feeling of the disgusting plant life.  
  
God, how he wished he had never signed up! He had been loathe to leave his job as equipment engineer in the large farming communes of Tex-Okla, one of the few regions of Earth which hadn't been swallowed by the ever-growing megalopolises covering the rest of the planet. But money had been tight, and his sister needing a new heart. The recruiting agent quite explicit about the amazing pay for qualified engineers, and so Elway had signed on, hoping to put in his five years at Lunar Base or one of the Belter colonies, and retire to his birthplace of Lubbock, Texas as a veteran, able to buy his sister a heart out of the cloning vats.  
  
But, instead of one of the high-paying jobs on a colony, he had been placed in a warship as junior apprentice of engineering. Four years had gone by, and Elway was now Senior Engineer aboard Alpha fleet's flagship. And still making less than he would on a Belter colony, or even aboard one of the light cruisers of Gamma Fleet, Starfleet's pride and joy.  
  
Elway thought dreamily about his former life. Thoughts of his mom's food filled his head, along with dreams of his warm blanket, his job fixing broken farm equipment, and his warm apartment. Slowly, he drifted asleep, thoughts of home filling his head.  
  
* * *  
  
Admiral Tsien sat in his own quarters, reading the message sent by the High Council.  
  
Enter the system with stealth, and observe the inhabitants. Make no hostile moves. We have hereby cancelled the flight of the Goddess. Gamma fleet shall be launched within the next three years, and will be with you in as short a time as possible. We congratulate Alpha Fleet for the first discovery of an intelligent extraterrestrial species.  
  
Yeah, right.  
  
In two months, Commander Jackson's mission would be complete. All intelligent life forms on the planet would be eliminated. The planet would be cleansed, made ready for colonization. Then, after the main fleet had arrived, two years later, Admiral Tsien would send another message back to the High Council, saying that the planet had been uninhabited when he arrived. Awards and congratulation would follow, and then he could retire to the portion of the planet he would claim personally.  
  
And then, he would begin to import his toys. Young homeless children, between the ages of four and twelve. Supposedly, they would be his to raise and train, and eventually employ on his stake. But training was expensive, and he had other ideas of making money. Organ farms, although illegal in Terran space, were immensely lucrative. The younger the organ donors, the better. And he would be rich.  
  
Besides, he liked children. The younger, the better. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six  
  
In high orbit above Esthar, the Estharian Research Station floated, it's thin, spindly external superstructure refracting the light of the sun into rainbow colors. Above it, in an even higher orbit, the station's sensor platform floated, it's myriad instruments gathering information from the cosmos.  
  
One of the many sensor on the platform switched on, preparing itself for an hourly update. The sensor's purpose was to gather tachyons, count their number, and transmit that information back to the Research Station and eventually down to the various scientific institutions located in Esthar.  
  
However, instead of the usual low count, the sensor detected a vast stream of tachyons flowing through its aperture window, quickly flooding the detection surface and shutting the sensor down. Forty seconds later, sixteen other sensors began to detect various unusual things. Gamma sensors detected a huge flare of energy, while gravatometers detected several masses moving into the system and the infrared sensors flared with thermal energy. The most unusual, however, was the data collected by the x128 wide aperture telescope.  
  
On the Station proper, one of the many technicians employed by the Esthar Foundation for Scientific Research was slouched in the seat of the telescope station, idly playing with the joysticks. It was only 15 minutes before his shift was finished, but manning the Station was a simple, non- taxing job, providing him plenty of free time during his shift.  
  
A flash of light in the view-screen caught his attention. Boredom overwhelming his mind, idle curiosity made him investigate the unusual phenomenon. Events were rare, but usually mundane. Daydreaming about a new comet, or a previously undiscovered Far Orbit Object, he zoomed the telescope to maximum magnification.  
  
Then, suddenly, his simple ideas were proven wrong. As he watched, the object divided into two parts, obviously moving under some form of control and then a violent purple flame burned out of the sunward end of each new piece. The technician switched the display over to gamma, and then infrared, and then realized what he had been looking at all along.  
  
The flame of a fusion engine.  
  
* * *  
  
Quistis was fast asleep under her thick comforter when the call came. As the strident ringing of the phone filled her darkened bedroom, Quistis shifted in her sleep, then awakened, her hand automatically reaching for the handset.  
  
"Headmaster Trepe speaking, and this had better be important," she mumbled, half awake.  
  
"Good morning, Quistis," Kiros said, his voice light and warm. "I'm just relaying a message from Laguna. He says, and I quote, 'Get somebody from Garden over here, right now. They need to be informed of this too.'"  
  
"Informed about what, Kiros?" Quistis said, her voice slurred into the reciever. Hyne, it's 2 AM! she thought tiredly.  
  
A note of excitement filled Kiros' voice. "We might have just found extraterrestrial intelligence!"  
  
"This sounds like something for Squall, not me," Quistis replied.  
  
"I'm calling Commander Leonheart in a moment," Kiros said, "but Laguna wants someone from Esthar Garden here in any case. Besides, Esthar Garden is a three minute tube ride from the Palace, and Squall is an hour away at least."  
  
Quistis groaned, and fumbled on her bedside table for her glasses. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes, Kiros. Just let me get dressed." Hanging up the phone, she put her glasses on, stood up on unsteady legs, and stumbled to the closet.  
  
She had barely gotten any sleep that night. The day to day operation of the new Garden took immense tolls on her time, and she was lucky to get four hours of sleep every night. Tonight, it looked like she wouldn't be sleeping at all.  
  
She dropped her night clothes to the floor and walked into her closet, automatically reaching for her usual pink dress. Settling the skirt over her hips, she began to methodically button her belt down.  
  
But. extraterrestrial intelligence? The dream of hundreds of scientists and hopefuls around the world? It was worth missing a little sleep to be present at the first contact with otherworldly life.  
  
She stamped into her boots and zipped up the front of her blouse. Her hand automatically grabbed the Save the Queen and wrapped it around her waist as she walked out the door into the dim hall.  
  
* * *  
  
Squall strode into the situation room of the Esthar Presidential Palace, Zell following closely at his heels. He had been awakened two hours ago by a phone call from an excited Kiros, but even though it was only three in the morning, he was wide awake. The life of a SeeD left little time for being tired.  
  
The room was filled with chattering printers, which relayed information from various scientific stations around the world. Technicians raced back and forth, carrying the reams of paper from the printers to various officials for study. A large viewscreen dominated the far wall, filled with the view from the large x128 telescope of the Research Station.  
  
Laguna stood by the viewscreen, studying the inbound objects. Kiros stood by his side, reading several reports, and Quistis leaned against the wall, with a sleepy look on her face. As she spotted Squall, she stood to attention and saluted.  
  
"Good morning, Commander. I hope you got some sleep, because you won't be getting any more tonight."  
  
Squall just shrugged. Lack of sleep didn't bother him.  
  
Laguna turned around and smiled. "Squall! How are you? How's Rinoa?"  
  
"Rinoa's asleep in bed right now," Squall replied, a blank look on his face. "What is this object you are so eager for me to see?"  
  
An eager note filled Laguna's voice. "There are actually two groups of them. Every object is metallic, and they are all using fusion thrusters to decelerate. The larger group looks like it may be passing on out of the system, but the smaller group will make a pass by the sun and be here in four days! Four days!" Laguna laughed with delight at the thought of contact with an extraterrestrial species.  
  
Squall shrugged again. "Would you mind telling me why this involves Garden?"  
  
A voice sounded out from behind Squall. "Yes, Mr. President, exactly why does this concern involve a group of warmongers like SeeD?"  
  
Turning, the group spotted a short man, crisply dressed in a gray business suit, thinning gray hair belying the energy in his clear blue eyes. Garibaldi Eason, Congressman from the Tears Point district, had arrived.  
  
"Nice to see you too, Eason," Laguna replied sarcastically.  
  
Eason walked up to the viewscreen and studied the picture. "Interesting secrets you have, Mr. President. Perhaps you would like to inform me of when you learned about this?"  
  
Laguna sighed, a pained expression on his face. "Just this morning, Garibaldi, about two hours ago. And before you ask, no, we have not announced it to the Congress yet, but I will be doing that personally about six hours from now."  
  
"The original question still remains, Mr. President. Why have you called SeeD into this? I would think that we would want a first contact situation to be peaceful."  
  
"I've informed all national leaders, Garibaldi, and that does include Commander Leonheart of SeeD. Besides, I have personal reasons for having Squall here."  
  
Eason just snorted, then spoke in his cultured voice. "SeeD is a group of mercenaries, not a world power. Hired help, you might say. One may hire the help gladly, and pay them for their services willingly, but I expect them to disappear once their job is done and not bother me again. Much less spread inflammatory messages of war, demand equal political status with Esthar, and insist on being paid for nothing more than pretending to defend against something that doesn't exist."  
  
Squall spoke up. "Senator Eason, war never vanishes completely. SeeD will always be needed."  
  
"The Sorceress is dead," Eason spoke, a disdainful expression on his face. "The world is at peace. War is nothing more than a memory. You have done your job, and now it would please me very much if you would go away and quit draining the coffers of this country."  
  
"Now, look, Eason..." Laguna replied.  
  
As the argument grew louder and more heated, Zell quietly watched Quistis. Although she appeared to be awake, her eyes would occasionally close as she struggled against sleep. The dark circles under her eyes made it obvious that she had not slept well in a long time. Zell leaned over, and whispered in her ear.  
  
"Quisty? What's wrong?"  
  
Quistis stood up, and sighed softly. "I'm just tired, Zell. It's been a long day."  
  
"A long month, it looks like. When did you last get any decent amount of sleep?"  
  
Quistis laughed quietly. "Zell, didn't you know Headmasters don't require sleep? We just need our oil changed every 3000 miles and dusted off occasionally. Running a Garden requires every bit of time I can spare, even with Nida's help. Sleep is a luxury."  
  
"Quistis, you should really go home and get some sleep," Zell began, but a loud shout from Laguna interrupted them.  
  
"Dammit, Eason, Squall is here because I say so, and you have no authority over my decisions."  
  
"Even so, Mr. President, I insist on leading the first contact mission. Without the presence of SeeD."  
  
"You have no authority in this situation, Eason. I do. Now get out of my situation room. Now!"  
  
Eason just smiled, and replied, "You may find your authority somewhat lacking in a few weeks. Just as soon as I can table another impeachment resolution." With those quietly menacing words, Eason turned and walked out of the room.  
  
"Impeachment?" Quistis asked, puzzled.  
  
"Yeah, I. uhh. made a few Congressmen mad a few weeks ago. Eason called for my impeachment then, but it only got a simple majority. Esthar requires a three-fourths majority before impeachment is passed, so I squeaked by."  
  
"How did you make them mad, Laguna?" Squall asked,  
  
"I passed a resolution by executive fiat right over Eason's head."  
  
"A brilliant move," Kiros added, sarcasm dripping from his voice.  
  
They stood in silence a few moments, staring at the image on the screen, before Zell spoke up.  
  
"So. are you going to let him lead the first contact mission?"  
  
"Yes," Laguna replied. "But, I also want a few Ragnarok-class SeeD ships ready to go at a moment's notice, just in case the E.T.'s are hostile."  
  
"What makes you think they might be hostile?" Squall asked.  
  
"Have you ever seen 'Attack of the Sekujamecian Mercenaries'? That movie gave me nightmares!"  
  
Kiros just rolled his eyes, but Squall replied, "Whatever. I'll have the Ragnarok, Wotun, Fenrir, and Thor ready to go at your call." Glancing at the screen one last time, he eyed Zell and Quistis, motioning towards the door.  
  
"Thanks," Laguna said, as the SeeDs left the room., He then turned to the screen, a pensive look on his face. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven  
  
"Squall, why are you doing this?" Rinoa asked, as she shivered in the icy winds of a late Balamb autumn. "Let Selphie and Irv handle it. You need to be here."  
  
Squall sighed. It had been four days since Laguna had dragged him from bed in the middle of the night. When he told Rinoa about Laguna's request for backup, she had demanded that Squall refrain from leading the emergency fleet. Four days of cajoling, begging, and outright threats, each calculated to convince him to let someone else lead the reserve fleet, each grating on his nerves.  
  
This morning, she had followed him all the way out to the tarmac, still pleading with him. She had clung to his side like a leech, incessantly begging, irritating him to no end as he watched the ground crew fuel the Ragnarok with hydrogen and perform their pre-flight checks.  
  
"Please, Squall, don't go, stay home" she said again, with tears in her eyes.  
  
"What is wrong with you, Rin?" Squall asked, his irritation showing through his usual stolid mask. "Why are you acting like this?"  
  
Rinoa buried her head in Squall's shoulder, sobs racking her hugely swollen frame. "I have a b-bad f-feeling about t-this, Squall. It's l-like you w- won't be coming home. I-I'm s-so scared." she cried, her voice muffled by Squall's coat.  
  
"Is this one of those sorceress things, Rinny?" Squall asked in a quiet voice.  
  
She just nodded, and cried harder.  
  
Squall just held her, and let her cry. This wasn't the first time Rinoa had shown a vague knowledge of the future. Usually, it was a one-sided vision, placing the emphasis on the worst, completely missing the usually happy ending. But, then again, it had never come this strong before. Squall was tempted to let Zell lead this one, but Laguna had asked Squall specifically. He couldn't break a promise to his rediscovered father.  
  
He clasped Rinoa's chin in his hand, bringing her face up to his. "Rinny, I'm coming back, no matter what happens. I won't leave you alone."  
  
"You promise, Squall. You swear on everything you have, on Hyne's good grace and your mothers name and your father's honor that you're coming back, or by Hyn I'll Stop you and lock your ass in the brig and staple your heart to the floor with the Lionheart."  
  
Squall just smiled, and wiped the tears away with his free hand. "One problem. My father doesn't have any honor to swear by."  
  
"Don't fuck with me, or I'll make sure you live to regret it." She punctuated her statement with a quick punch to his gut.  
  
"Shit, Rinoa, I'm sorry! I promise!" Squall said, shocked at her sudden outburst of anger.  
  
"Promise by what?"  
  
"I promise by Hyne's good graces and my mothers name and my fathers honor. and by my undying love for you."  
  
"Fair enough. Make sure you keep that promise."  
  
With her eyes full of cold fire, Rinoa turned and walked back towards the hanger of Balamb garden, leaving Squall alone by the massive bulk of the Ragnarok.  
  
* * *  
  
"Ccccmmmddrrr. wwwwkkkk. pppp."  
  
"Urgh?"  
  
"Commander, wake up."  
  
Jackson opened his eyes, wincing against the glaring, hot lights over his head. The chill air of the cryohold carressed his naked form, bringing goosebumps to his skin as his circulation returned to normal and his metabolism regained it's balance. A sudden wave of nausea overcame him, and he began to vomit.  
  
A wand reached down from overhead, suctioning the remains of his last meal out of his mouth. Then, as the nausea passed, the sharp sting of a hypodermic needle brought him to full awareness.  
  
He opened his eyes again, and focused his bleary eyes on his second in command. "Lieutenant Conollant. status report."  
  
"We are two hours from orbit, sir. We're awakening the ground assault team now."  
  
"Good, Lieutenant. Has the population of the planet reacted to our approach?"  
  
"Yes, sir. A ship has launched from the major technological center of the planet. It appears to be unarmed."  
  
Jackson closed his eyes as hibernation sickness washed over him again, bringing nausea and disorientation. As his body fought the sickness, his mind raced, seeking an effective battle plan.  
  
An unarmed ship meant that the people of this world had noticed the strike force, but thought they were peaceful. They were unprepared for the truth. It would take them time to regroup and get their forces into space, time which Jackson could spend getting troops down to the surface. Then, with a strike team on the ground and heavy weapons support from space, he could crush the population centers swiftly.  
  
But the plan would be ineffective unless he was on the ground leading the strike force. He needed to be close to the real action, not in space watching from afar, with precious seconds lost to delays, precious seconds he could gain by being with the ground force. He opened his eyes again, and looked at the lieutenant.  
  
"Lieutenant, you will be taking command of the fleet. I'm going down with the strike force to command."  
  
"My orders, sir?"  
  
"Blow the alien ship out of the sky. Then you'll perform a variant of the OA-1 plan. One ship at a time will deploy the strike force while the others set a defensive barrier around it. You should have enough time for all troops to deploy before any alien ships can leave the atmosphere, so don't be too vigilant. After the strike force is deployed, use the Wraith-class ships as killer ships while the Corsair-class ships act as orbital weapons platforms. If we call, blast the hell out of the coordinates I give."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Now get me some clothes and pump the amphetamines, I'm going to need a clear head before I drop."  
  
* * *  
  
In a low orbit over the planet, Garibaldi Eason sat in the bridge of the Galtirglin. He watched the viewscreen adamantly, pleased at the thought of being the one to make first contact with the extraterrestrials. In a few minutes, the ship would be within communications range, and then Eason would be a world-renown hero.  
  
Even more heroic than Laguna, the stupid bumbling idiot.  
  
After this, it would be easy to evict Laguna from the office of the President. Then, Eason would graciously accept the inevitable appointment to the presidency, do away with the army, and prove once and for all that war was gone for good.  
  
Poor, poor Laguna. He was such a sad creature, holding on to the relics of the past. War had cost Eason his family, his home at Tears Point, and billions of gil in revenue for maintaining the army and the Gardens. With the money saved from funding Balamb Garden alone, Eason could rebuild Tears Point, could finally regain his old home. Plus, cutting Garden off from its main source of funds would seriously hamper the instigators of the Second Sorceress War.  
  
A fine revenge for the slaughter of his family by that SeeD, Almasy.  
  
The few remaining minutes passed slowly. Eason felt the tension in the small bridge grow as the crew grew more and more silent, stress and strain wearing on their minds at the thought of the moment of contact. Eason himself just leaned forwards in his seat, his mind releasing pleasure endorphines and enjoying a visceral buildup of tension in his loins. Then, as the captain turned and spoke, a near orgasmic wave of pleasure passed through Eason.  
  
"Mr. Senator? We are within hailing distance now."  
  
"Good, good." Eason rubbed his hands together as he stepped into the center of the bridge. "Open hailing frequencies now, Captain."  
  
A quiet bleep sounded, signaling that communications were open. Eason opened his arms in a welcoming gesture, and began to speak.  
  
"I bring greetings to you, gentle beings. My name is Garibaldi Eason. I welcome you to our world, in the name of Peace..."  
  
He never finished his statement. A dark, carbon scored opening on the alien ship flashed into light, briefly highlighting the sinuous, graceful lines of the ship. Then, in a blast of hellfire, a beam stabbed out, lancing through the hull of the Galtirglin. A burst of fusion fire later, and Garibaldi Eason met his maker.  
  
The rest of the world watched in horror as other ships dropped into low orbit, passing through the burning remains of the Galtirglin, turning their lower decks towards the planet. Large guns opened, their twin barrels aiming at the unsuspecting planet, and began firing infantry capsules towards the planet. As the egg-shaped pods filled with troops streaked towards the planetary surface, other ships surrounded them in a defensive formation, elclosing them against whatever the world might send their way. 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight  
  
In low orbit, on the far side of the world from the Galtirglin, four Ragnarok-class ships were circling in a slow holding pattern. Aboard each ship, the crews were sitting at station, waiting for Eason's welcoming speech to begin. The ships were fully armed, prepared for combat, but the crew believed it would be an easy day.  
  
On board the Fenris, Nida sat in the pilot's chair, idly tapping his fingers against the console. With each quiet click of fingernails against the pressure-sensitive plastic, Quistis twitched a little bit and ground her teeth together. Nida had been doing that since eight that morning, and the sound was slowly driving Quistis insane.  
  
Finally, the sound pushed her over the breaking point. However, before she could react, her SeeD training automatically modified the near-homicidal impulses running through her body, throttled the anger in, maintaining her composure controlling her slightly irritable temper for the sake of her normal image of serenity. After all, Nida and his finger tapping was no worse than Squall's "Whatever" he used to throw her way when he was still her student, and she had survived that.  
  
Instead of leaping at Nida and throttling him, like she wanted to do, instead she spoke in a calm and reasonable tone. "Nida, please stop that."  
  
"Stop what?"  
  
"Stop tapping your fingers against the console. It's distracting."  
  
"Oh. Sorry, Captain."  
  
As he stopped, Quistis sighed in relief. She had always been self-composed and bossy, even from childhood, but underneath the serene face and calmness a temper lurked, always threatening to show through at the most inopertune times. It had been easier to control it before she was appointed Headmaster of Esthar, but the overwhelming responsibility required to run a Garden had brought it close to the surface.  
  
"So, Captain, when does the speech begin," said the Weaponry officer, Aerisca Caliburn. She had been a SeeD for the past three months, and had just qualified for her post as Weapons officer aboard the Fenris.  
  
"It should start in the next three minutes or so, Aerisca. Just be patient."  
  
Aerisca sat silently, obeying Quistis's order. She didn't want to mess up with the headmaster and ruin her first voyage aboard the SeeD cruiser.  
  
The next three minutes passed slowly. Nida's fingers twitched, but they stayed away from the console. Aerisca kept flipping through the console settings, studying the weaponry. Quistis just sat silently, keeping a calm disposition, her tongue rubbing a spot where the enamel had flaked off a tooth from the morning's teeth-gritting session.  
  
Finally, the holotank lit up, and Garabaldi Eason's face was displayed.  
  
"I bring greetings to you, gentlebeings. My name is Garabaldi Eason. I welcome you to our world, in the name of Peace..."  
  
The holotank cut off abruptly, as if one of the repeater sattelites carrying the linkup from the Galtirglin had malfunctioned. The shipboard computers automatically switched the link to the next available sattelite, but nothing came in on that one, either. Figuring it was a malfunction of the shipboard reciever, Quistis reached for the console, about to open coms to the Ragnarok, but all of the sudden three things happened all at once.  
  
Nida began to tap his nails again.  
  
Quistis saw red.  
  
Everyone else saw red as the alarms went off.  
  
Immediately, Quistis' mind cleared. "What the hell just happened, Nida?"  
  
"We're recieving data now from the Ragnarok, Captain," Nida replied. "It looks like... Great Hyne, the Galtirglin is gone! They destroyed it!"  
  
"Pilot, start our ascent."  
  
As Nida pushed the Fenris to top speed, the inertial dampeners began to groan with the massive load placed on them. The crew groaned under the G forces, and despite the crushing weight, brought the subsystems up to full battle capacity quickly and efficiently.  
  
Quistis just gave a small prayer to Hyne as the ship joined the fray.  
  
***  
  
The infantry capsules swayed as the cross winds in the upper atmosphere tore at the thin shells. It had been a rough drop, as the deployment had plowed through the outer edges of a massive storm system, scattering the capsules away from their original drop point. Most of the soldiers were slightly ill, but their instincts for battle would soon override their nacent fear and nausea.  
  
Jackson just endured the ride. They were about four miles in the air, and within minutes the air brakes on the capsules would open and the shells would disintegrate, freeing the troopers for their final fall and subsequent combat. Drops were difficult and dangerous, but Jackson had seen more than his fair share of them and was prepared for the worst.  
  
The brakes bit into the thin air. The capsule twisted violently, shoving Jackson's stomach into his throat. Then, the brakes burned off and the shell opened about him. A quick check of the proximity and closing gear, and he opened his chute for the final 200 feet. His radar detected an incoming aerospace craft, probably unarmed from it's configuration, but Jackson dumped his chute anyways and dropped to the ground, his knees buckling and absorbing the shock.  
  
He stood, brushing the dirt off of his visor and arming his needle gun. Behind him, his squad landed in a similar fashion. One fell onto a boulder, which rolled under the massive weight of his armor and crushed the corporal beneath it. The crunch of broken bones signaled the injury inflicted upon the unfortunate soldier, but Jackson ignored the his plight as he checked the horizon for the incoming ship.  
  
There! Incoming, flying at an altitude of 400 feet, ETA five minutes. Jackson called out swift orders to his squad, and they prepared for an incoming assault.  
  
***  
  
Siefer burst through the aged wooden doors of General Carraway's office. "General! We have incoming. Human life signs, landing south of Deling City."  
  
Carraway turned from the status board on the far wall. "I know, Seifer. There are also landing sites in northern Esthar. I've already issued orders for troop deployment here, within the next five minutes. I just hope Esthar is doing the same."  
  
"What about SeeD? What are they doing?"  
  
"They've already deployed here in Galbadia."  
  
"General, permission to lead our assault teams?"  
  
Carraway just looked at Seifer, his eyebrows raised. "Don't tell me. Your hero affectation just kicked in and you want to go get some glory."  
  
"Fuck you, Richard."  
  
"No, fuck you, Seifer," Carraway responded, anger making his face hard. "I am still your commanding officer and you will address me with the utmost respect. Is that clear?"  
  
"Yes... Sir."  
  
"Good, then. If I let you lead the assault, I'm sure there are some SeeD's who wouldn't mind taking a shot at you, too."  
  
"It's a risk I'm willing to take."  
  
"Fine then. Take command of D Company. You have three minutes till the troops launch for deployment. On the bounce, soldier."  
  
Seifer turned, his pale coat flaring about him as he walked to the door. But, before he could turn the antique brass doorknob, General Carraway spoke again.  
  
"One more thing, Siefer."  
  
Seifer turned, the overhead lights catching in his intense blue eyes. "What's that, General?"  
  
"You remember the Hyperion?"  
  
Siefer's face drew tight, remembering the shame he had felt when Carraway had taken the former-SeeD's weapon of choice away as a condition of Siefer's current position. His voice rough with anger, Siefer replied, "What about it?"  
  
Carraway lifted a box from the shelf behind his desk. Turning, he laid it on the desktop, and tossed Seifer the key. Siefer dashed to the desk, his eagerness to possess his favorite weapon making his hands shake as he fumbled the key into the lock. He quickly tore the top open, and swept the oiled cloth away, expecting to see the graceful outlines of the dark gray blade.  
  
But, instead of a dark gray, the crystalline blade shone in the light, it's azure blue color matching Siefer's eyes. Siefer lifted the gunblade, felt it's familier weight in his hand. "What the fuck, General?"  
  
"It's the last available upgrade for the Hyperion line. Very similar to the Lionheart gunblade, saving for a different style and caliber, and Ultima- elemental instead of the Lionheart's Holy affinity. It's called the Excelsior."  
  
Siefer glanced at the blade one last time, admiring it, then slid it home in the empty gunblade sheath at his hip. Turning, he strode to the door, smiling. The smile of a shark sighting it's prey.  
  
***  
  
Three figures dashed across the Esthar Airstation tarmac and into the transport as the rear door closed. Slipping inside, the figures looked around before facing the seargent standing at the front. The middle one saluted, then a familer voice issued from under the helmet. "Sarge, where's your commanding officer?"  
  
"We haven't had one for a year now, soldier. This is reserve unit 6-D, we're not normally assigned a commanding officer."  
  
"Then you are in command, right?" the voice asked.  
  
"That's correct," replied the seargent. Then, eyeing the significant lack of insignia on the figure's tight purple and white uniform, he asked "What's your name and rank, soldier?"  
  
"Laguna Loire, General of the Armies of Esthar. And this is Colonal Kiros Seagill, and Colonol Ward Zabac, my two operations officers. I'm taking command now."  
  
"Sir.. if I may ask, sir, what the fuck?"  
  
The seargent heard the grin in the president's voice as he replied, "I was an infantry officer long before I was ever President, Sarge. My place, as the leader of my people, is out front, defending the country, not safe in a bunker. Now, do you have any .560 Esthar Fire ammo, the armory only had one clip left."  
  
Suddenly, the seargent saluted, the grin as clearly obvious in his voice as it was in Laguna's. "Glad to have you aboard, General. We will be at the LZ in five minutes. And we have plenty of spare ammunition."  
  
Feeling the lurch of the plane as it took off, Laguna shook the seargents hand before quickly finding a seat. Then, he gripped his right leg, and the soldiers to his left and right just heard a strangled "Ow, ow ow ow ouch!"  
  
***  
  
Rinoa sat in Edea's living room on the third floor of Balamb Garden. Bright sunlight streamed through the windows, making the rich maroon carpet glow. On the pale lavender sofa, Edea hugged Rinoa as the young sorceress cried into Edea's shoulder.  
  
"Dammit, Edea, he's in danger and I'm not there! I don't care what they say! These aliens are dangerous, I just know they are..."  
  
Edea just smiled, gently trying to ease Rinoa's fear. "Rinoa, during the time that I was a sorceress, I recieved many such proleptic sensations. Virtually all of them turned out to be wrong. Prolepsis is a very unreliable ability, so you don't have to worry..."  
  
Rinoa just slammed a fist down on Edea's thigh, her Junctioned strength leaving a massive bruise and elicting a grunt of pain from the older woman. "Hyne damn you, Edea. This is no joke, they are here to kill us! I know it! Please, for the love of Hyne, believe me!"  
  
Edea opened her mouth again to soothe the distraught girl, but she was interrupted by a blaring alarm. "All SeeD's to loading bay one! All SeeD's to loading bay one! This is no drill! We have landing alien troops east of Esthar and south of Deling City. Prepare for deployment. I repeat, All SeeD's to landing bay one..."  
  
"I told you so..." Rinoa said, as hollow empty pain filled her eyes.  
  
"So you did, Rinoa. So you did, and I am deeply sorry. We should have listened to you. Unfortuantely, there is nothing we can do now for Squall now, it's already to late. Now excuse me, I have to go find Cid before he decides to go running off to lead the assault himself." With those words, Edea rose, and quickly limped out into the halls.  
  
Rinoa stood herself and walked slowly to the door, her feet stepping in a slow counterbeat to the sirens now ringing throughout the halls. Damn him! He wouldn't listen, he just had to go fight, and now he was gone. Squall, would never be coming home, would never hold her in his arms again, would never love her slowly in the middle of the night. He would never hold their child, never...  
  
A sudden pain stopped Rinoa in her tracks. Clutching the hall railing in one hand, her other hand cupped her swollen abdomen as another sharp pain jolted her. The stress had finally taken its toll, and now her child was on its way. Pain shot through her belly again, and again, as her body fought to expell her child.  
  
"Help... Please, somebody, help..." she cried out weakly.  
  
No one heard her. The floor was abandoned, the high-ranking SeeD who lived on this floor already down to the loading bay. Rinoa started off towards the lift, hoping to make it to the infirmary, but another sharp pain dropped her to her knees. She tried to crawl, but as she moved, her water broke. She sat back against the wall, weeping bitterly and begging Hyne for aid, from somewhere, someone, anyone at all. 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
Squall gritted his teeth against the acceleration as the Ragnarok cleared the upper atmosphere. The compensators had been designed for the relatively low-g maneuvers of aerospace combat, not the high-speed the Ragnarok was making towards the alien battle group. Crushing weight pressed in on his chest, robbing him of breath and forcing him to struggle to remain conscious  
  
"Commander, targets will be within firing range in thirty seconds," Zell said from the pilot's seat, his voice strained and weak. Fortunately for him, he only endured 3/4 of the g-forces placed on the rest of the crew, due to the local-effect of the inertial compensator. Normally the intricate device would protect the entire crew from all inertial effects, but with the power drain caused by the overstressed fusion thrusters, it was only working at half-efficiency. It could have been worse, Squall reminded himself; six gees were better than the lethal 34 the crew would have been feeling without the compensator.  
  
"Weaponry, status report. How long until you have a firing solution?"  
  
"I have a solution on X-laser batteries one and two now, Commander," Rowan King replied in an easy voice. He had been training for the Ragnarok for the last three years, and the eighteen-year-old SeeD was handling the g- forces with ease. "I'll have a solution for the ALRASM missiles in three minutes, all four banks. Particle cannons will have to wait until we are at two klicks or closer."  
  
"Firing range now, Commander," Zell said.  
  
"Weapons, fire at will."  
  
Twin lances of glaring white light speared forwards of the cockpit of the Ragnarok, outspeeding the relatively slow travel of the ship. The hellish beams of coherent light hammered into the graceful, flowing curves of the alien ship, only to be absorbed by an invisible shield protecting it.  
  
'X lasers ineffective, Commander," Rowan said. "They must have some kind of ray-shielding. Solution now confirmed on the ALRASM banks one, two, two, three, and four."  
  
Four alien ships broke formation and headed for the SeeD squadron. Electromagnetic launchers flashed from the prow of each ship, firing a series of tiny steel balls towards the SeeD ships at 0.25c. Zell jerked the stick, guiding the Ragnarok out of the way as the tactical screens showed the other three ships avoiding the deadly projectiles.  
  
"Rechecking solution... Solution confirmed. Firing."  
  
Sixteen Advance Long Range Anti-Ship Missiles left the missile banks of the Ragnarok, closely followed by a salvo from the other three SeeD ships. The missiles raced forwards, sluggish by the standards of relativity but still blazingly fast to the alien ships, tearing through the intervening space until they penetrated the shields and blasted holes in the outer hull. One missile made a lucky hit, penetrating through the extraterrestrial spacecraft to the antimatter pods, obliterating the ship.  
  
"Sixty-four missiles launched, Commander. All found targets. One target destroyed. Coming in range for the particle cannons."  
  
A glaring orange light formed from the prow of one alien ship. From it, a blazing beam struck forth, striking the hull of the Wotun. Fire blew through the viewports of the bridge, moments before the ship exploded in a brilliant, silent death fire.  
  
"Shit! Break formation, evasive maneuvers!" Squall shouted, his eyes filled with the image of the Wotun. Tactical monitors showed the SeeD fleet shatter, the three remaining ships twisting away from the invading fleet.  
  
"Commander, we have a solution on the particle cannons."  
  
"All ships, close to range and plow through, firing as we pass. Hit them on the run and then we'll reverse course and hit them on a second pass. And watch those ships, we don't want to be hit by one of those energy beams!"  
  
A chorus of "Aye, Commander," filled the com. Zell pulled the stick left, swinging the Ragnarok to the side of the target ship. As they passed each other, the particle cannons probed the target, seeking out and destroying any likely targets. However, the alien ship fired back, puncturing the pressure hull over the passenger area. The Ragnarok swept clear, blazing though the formation and out the other side.  
  
"Status report, Engineering."  
  
The computer responded, generating a list of problems. Then, a neutral voice spoke from the speakers. "Pressure hull penetrated, passenger section. Pressure hull penetrated, starboard cargo area. Engines overstressed. Fusion reactor at critical heat levels."  
  
"Commander," Zell said, "we can ignore the pressure hull penetrations, they're sealed. I recommend we circle the moon, killing the engines and using the lunar gravity to bring us around for a second pass."  
  
"SeeD fleet, did you catch that last?"  
  
"Commander, this is the Fenrir," Quistis said. "I copy on the lunar pass. We have engine damage, so we'll be a little slow."  
  
"Understood, Captain, we'll make our pass and you can follow through."  
  
"We also have a tactical readout of the enemy ships. They may look fast, but they're slow to turn and maneuver. The shielding they have is only effective against energy weapons, so I suggest using only our missiles and particle cannons"  
  
Another voice joined Quistis'. "Commander, this is the Thor," Headmaster Jesall said. Jesall was the headmaster of Trabia Garden, and a damn fine pilot. "I disagree with the Fenrir. The missiles left a weakness in the shields that a follow-up shot from the X-lasers will penetrate."  
  
"I agree," Squall replied. "Watch for that cannon they have, it takes a moment to power up, so you should be able to avoid it. We're coming up on the lunar pass now. Just hang on, Esthar should have backup on the way."  
  
"By Hyne, I hope so," Jesall murmured. "If they don't, we're dead."  
  
The Ragnarok twisted in flight, followed closely by the Thor and Fenrir, on a track around the moon. The great engines of the three ships died as they passed into the moon's gravity well, letting the engines cool and recover. Then, as the fleet passed around the moon, the engines roared to life once more, and the ships rejoined the battle.  
  
* * *  
  
As the SeeD transport approached the hostile landing point, a swarm of surface-to-air missiles launched, seeking out the fusion thrusters of the aircraft. Inside the cockpit, Selphie Tilmett jerked the control stick to the side, combat reflexes coming into play. The ship was deep-bellied, meant to transport troops en-masse, and it groaned at the strain as it performed tricks meant for a far lighter and more maneuverable aerospace fighter.  
  
"Hyne, baby, are you trying to kill us before the fight?" Irvine Kinneas' voice spoke out from behind. Selphie spared him a glance, only to find his hat at the rear of the cockpit, and Irvine himself hanging on to a seat for dear life against her barrel rolls.  
  
She gave him a quick grin, before another swarm of missiles streaked out at her, causing the grin to fade from her dripping face and her hand to pull back hard. The ship flipped into an Immellman turn, then as suddenly flipped out of, screaming protest at every inch, and the missiles missed their lock. A loud "Booyaka!" erupted from Selphie's mouth as she forced the overstressed aircraft into moves that a seasoned fighter pilot would never try. The two SeeD's stared out the window as the missiles locked onto each other, and collided in a cloud of fire and shrapnel.  
  
A voice sounded in Selphie's headset, the sweet sound of air support. "SeeD aircraft, this is Marlboro squadron, Esthar Air Force. Need a hand?"  
  
"Marlboro squadron, this is SeeD Infantry Transport A-2 inbound to the hostile LZ. Gimme all you got."  
  
A pair of Esthar aerospace fighters flew into sight, jockeying into position as they lined up for a strike on the infantry. Twin ports flipped open on each fighter, and the ground was assaulted by two streams of ammunition from the vulcans embedded in the aircraft. Exactly the opportunity that Selphie needed.  
  
Flipping her sweat-drenched hair away from her ear, she spoke into the mouthpiece of her headset. "Teams One and Two, prepare for disembark. Quickly!" A light flashed on the console, showing the rear bay doors opening, then two by two a string of lights flashed out, showing the exit of the SeeD strike teams.  
  
A voice filled Selphie's earpiece. "SeeD A-2, this is Marlboro one. Lining up for a second run."  
  
"Acknowledged, Marlboro One."  
  
Eight, six, four... The aerospace support fired again, and Selphie watched both the console and the hostile infantry as they leapt out of the way. Two, and out. Selphie keyed the com again.  
  
"Marlboro one, this is SeeD A-2, we are deployed. Returning to base, repeat returning to base."  
  
"Acknowledged, SeeD A-2"  
  
Selphie flipped a switch, returning the com to the soldiers on the ground. "SeeD teams, this is SeeD A-2, you are deployed. Good luck."  
  
"Who needs luck when you got a badass fighter pilot on your side?" Irvine called out from the rear seat.  
  
Selphie grinned at the comment as she pulled the stick to the side, throwing the aircraft into another barrel roll as it turned to it's six. Lighter by over seven tons of SeeD infantry, the ship moved easier, far more responsive to the stick.  
  
Its newly acquired responsiveness doomed it. Unknown to Selphie, another swarm of unguided missiles had just been launched, missiles which would have missed the aircraft completely. But Selphie's sharp turn brought the aircraft into the path of the missiles. She barely heard a strangled "Watch out!" from the com before the missiles struck home.  
  
***  
  
Lieutenant Kelly Conollant jerked in her seat, the restraining straps biting into her as the Executioner swerved in its flight path, avoiding the probing particle beams emanating from the alien ships. Thirty minutes of infantry drops, twenty of those minutes filled with battle against the alien ships, and now the fleet under her command was free for battle.  
  
Twenty minutes. It had seemed more like twenty hours. The terran fleet had lost four ships, against the alien's one, but the fleet still held a six to one advantage. And now, with the fleet freed from the infantry drop, the tide would turn.  
  
"Lieutenant, we have incoming!" the Weapons officer said, the stress of battle showing in his voice. A new kid, on his first cruise. Almost worthless in battle, but he had missed the Belt wars. She had only been there for the last weeks of battle, and it had been a swift learning experience. With a calm voice, she spoke, "Increase the power to the shields. What's the status on the fission cannon?"  
  
"Recharged in thirty seconds, Lieutenant," the badly scared ensign replied.  
  
"Fire when ready, Ensign."  
  
It somehow seemed wrong to her, attacking a virtually defenseless planet, but it was her sworn duty. She had chosen her path for righteousness and glory. To fight these aliens, to wipe their planet clean for the only species worthy of domination, even to put up with Lieutenant Jackson's greedy stares and roving hands, it was her duty, her obligation to the Terran Confederation and Admiral Tsien. Ruthlessly, she shoved the doubting voice out of her head.  
  
"Lieutenant? Permission... permission to leave the bridge?" the ensign asked in a small voice. A swift snap of her fingers, and a security guard standing near the blast doors raised his disruptor and fired once into the ensign's back. A scream sounded out as the point singularity issued from the ugly maw of the disruptor shredded the ensign's innards before it dissipated harmlessly. The poor kid, but he had failed in his duty. And Admiral Tsien had no room in his fleet for shirkers of that sacred duty.  
  
"Someone man his post, and prepare to fire the fission cannon."  
  
Duty. It had been her guiding words for years, first heard out of Admiral Tsien's mouth and taken to heart by a young midshipman, six years ago. And now that same duty would wipe this planet clean, and force her to submit to Lieutenant Jackson's ministrations after it was all done. For the glory and honor of Admiral Tsien and the Terran Confederation.  
  
A frown appeared on her smooth face as the fusion beam coalesced.  
  
***  
  
His chute settling to the ground behind him, Seifer unhooked himself from his harness. Below him, on the plateau leading out to the Tomb of the Unknown King, a swarm of SeeDs and invaders battled each other, and bodies lay in heaps, none of them wearing the strange powered suits the hostiles were wearing.  
  
Fucking idiots, going one on one with each other, Seifer thought to himself, disgusted with the SeeD battle tactics. In normal combat, it was an effective form of attack, as a student of Garden was more than a match for any ten Galbadian troops, or any six Esthar troops.  
  
He scanned the battle as D Company, Galbadian Army settled to the ground behind him. One of the SeeD on the field cast an Ultima spell, leaving behind a wake of destroyed terrain and a horde of unharmed invaders. In other places, a few SeeD were using their limits, and in those few places the invaders fell in their tracks.  
  
Very well, then if magic was useless, time to try something else.  
  
A quick wave of his hand signaled the Galbadian ranks to form the legendary Triad Defense, three close-assault soldiers forming a triangle around a rifleman and a medic. That configuration had allowed Galbadian soldiers to fight for hours in battle, withstanding virtually any combination of ground forces saving only heavy armored divisions. Another wave of his hands in his own unique finger code, and the troops advanced down the hill posthaste.  
  
Seifer led the way, drawing the brilliant blade of the Excelsior. Though it was for the most part a new weapon entirely, it still balanced in his hand as perfectly as the Hyperion once had, and muscles weakened by time but retaining their old patterns flexed as he swung the blade at the first target he encountered and removed the invader's conveniently placed leg, armor and all.  
  
Hack, slash, and thrust, and the crystalline blade carved a swath of destruction through enemy ranks. A quick glance around, and Seifer spotted a Galbadian Triad. It appeared that the Galbadians were holding their own, but making no headway against their armored foes. A few SeeD were emulating the Galbadian strategy, and in those places a few enemies fell, despite the fact of the continued usage of paramagic.  
  
Then a muffled burst sounded behind him, and Seifer fell to the ground atop a barely breathing SeeD, his back afire. Damned stupid idiot he cursed, angry with himself for being distracted. Have I really forgotten so much?  
  
Then he realized what he was laying on. SeeD. She'll have a GF. He let his body relax as if in death, and reached, a heavy leaden weight filling his head as he groped blindly into the girl's mind, trying to remember how to Draw without the use of a Guardian Force.  
  
A tendril of his thoughts caught on the psychic signature of a GF, and Seifer clenched at it mentally, withdrawing it from the resisting clutch of the girl's mind, damning her to death from the shock that her junctioned spells was preventing. Quickly junctioning Alexander, he removed the stock of spells from the girl as the last traces of consciousness fled her mind.  
  
Let's see, Haste to Speed, Cura to Fortitude, that last Curaga spell to my back. Hmm, and those sixteen Ultima's to Strength. Seifer stood up with his newly enhanced attributes, dragging the tip of the Excelsior up through an invader's crotch. The poor creature fell to the ground screaming as Seifer gathered his junctioned strength and leapt into the air, rising over the battle and glancing around quickly.  
  
The battle was evening out, the defenders making more headway but not turning the tide. Seifer extended his legs as he fell, his feet crushing the shoulders of one alien while the Excelsior split the helmet of another. A backflip later, and Seifer landed among a cluster of invaders, hacking away merrily with an angry grin on his blood-covered face.  
  
***  
  
The door the Infirmary opened just as Kadowaki finished gathering her supplies to join the last wave of SeeD leaving Balamb. The elderly doctor looked up, eyeing the sight of Cid dashing through the door, holding a screaming Rinoa in his arms.  
  
"Cid! What happened?"  
  
The Headmaster only grunted in response, struggling to support Rinoa's thrashing body in his desk-softened arms, but Edea, walking in the door behind him, answered her over the cries of pain.  
  
"She went into labor, her water's already broken. Stress. We found her collapsed in the 3rd level hallway."  
  
"Get her onto the exam table. oh hell," Kadowaki exclaimed, noticing the blood covering Cid's left arm. "Preclampsia. Dammit. Into the OR, now. Edea, scrub up, you'll have to play nurse, the rest of my staff is on the transport."  
  
Edea nodded and ran to the sink, flipping on the water and reaching for the soap as Cid carried the girl into the operating room. Kadowaki reached for the com on her desk and opened it, selecting the frequency of the transport.  
  
"Transport, this is Medic One. Takeoff without me, I've got a situation in the infirmary. Cindy can handle the battle, she's a trained field medic."  
  
"Gotcha, Doc. SeeD transport H-2 out."  
  
Kadowaki flipped off the com and ran to the sink, shoving her hands into the burning water. "Edea, how much of your powers do you retain?"  
  
"I can still cast Curaga and Esuna, if that's what you're asking."  
  
"Hyne, I hope it's enough. 


End file.
